For those of you who have healthy family relationships, this post may not make much sense.  For many of you, this will make perfect sense.

It was pointed out to me recently, as I related in a previous post, that I might be subconsciously preventing myself from losing weight because I was trying to make sure that my mother didn’t “win”.  Win what? you may ask.  A valid question.

If I lose weight.  If I become healthy.  If I actually *gasp* succeed, she will have won.  In her mind, the years of humiliating and derogatory remarks will have finally born fruit.   She’ll think I listened to her and, FINALLY, understood that she was right.  Am I strong enough to let that happen?

I was a healthy weight at birth.  I have seen the pictures – I was a healthy weight as a toddler.  I don’t remember most of those years.  Literally as long as I can remember, I have been overweight.  Not just overweight, obese.  I was a teenager before anyone actually CALLED me obese.  It was my mom, of course.

That is just one example in a lifetime of examples of cruel and humiliating tactics she has employed my entire life in an attempt to “help” me lose weight.  “I only tell you this because I love you and I want you to be healthy” are words I have heard many times throughout my life.  I had grown used to them, I thought.

Then she started in on my son, who is not, by any stretch of the imagination, heavy.  When he quit gymnastics, his muscle tone, understandably, decreased.  When he last visited, she “harassed” (his words) about his “gut”.  I think that’s when I decided that it was time to end the cycle of humiliation and pain.

I have never in my life been good enough for anything.  Just ask my mother.  I think I am so used to not being good enough that I didn’t think I deserved to be healthy.  Or to really try to lose weight – I was going to fail anyhow; after all, I’m never good enough.

It’s cliché to blame your mother.  It’s her fault.  It’s all she knew.  She tried to make sure it was all I knew.

Well, I know better now.  I love my mother.  I know that, in her mind, she had my best interests at heart. She was wrong.  That’s okay.  I understand that; I’m all about second chances now.  She’s got one with me.  But I can’t forget.  I am cautious with my feelings with her.  I defend myself now.  I’m teaching my son to defend himself.

So, I wonder why I was still scared to let her win.

I’m not sure but I’m over it.

Yes, I am strong enough to let her win.  And in that allowance, I will become stronger.  Mentally and physically stronger.

Then and only then, we all win.